Scandal at the Opera
by ThroughToYou
Summary: Miss Relda, a singer from New York, takes a featured role in London's premiere of Carmen. But the past is never too far behind, she'll need Basil and Dawson's help to survive opening night.


**Disclaimer: **This is Fanfiction.

**Summery:** Miss Relda, a singer from New York, takes a featured role in London's premiere of Carmen. But the past is never too far behind, she'll need Basil and Dawson's help to survive opening night.

**A/N:** GMD's version of Irene Adler. _Loosely_ based on Scandal in Bulgaria. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

**Scandal at the Opera**

_**Chapter 1:**_** Lucky Introductions**

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...

"Relda?" A small voice called over a sea of scurrying patrons. "Miss Florence Relda?"

"Yes, here!"

Nitwits. She didn't trust these hotel boys toting around her expensive luggage. Ever since the incident with her mother's jewelry in Chicago, every single hotel porter was the enemy. It took her a week to track down every diamond and pearl. Fool her once shame on her, but she would never take her eyes off those boys again. New York or London, a city was a city. Those luggage boys couldn't be trusted .

"Give it here." She roughly snatched her bags from the porter's sticky paws and practically threw the money at the little boy's face. "Take your coins and get out of my sight, I can carry them myself."

Maybe Relda had become a little high maintenance lately. Being an aspiring opera singer wasn't easy. Truthfully, the whole mess was starting to become tedious and dull. Every morning Relda would wake up in New York, look out her hotel window and see a grey bustling city. Bustling sure, but somehow it was still boring. It was the same, day in and day out. She'd wake up late, go to rehearsal, do a show, meet with the same grumpy old man she always met up with and did it all again the next day.

Routines did her no favors. Her mind wasn't the type to settle. Something had to be done, she thought. So when she was offered to appear in a new show across seas, of course, Relda was on the next ship out of America. She would be given a salary, a decent enough one, but they would not help her find lodgings for the two months of rehearsals and two month long run. It was fine. She was young enough, single, and accomplished. How hard could it be?

"A_ featured_ singer?" Her grumpy gentleman friend back in New York had scoffed after reading the contract. "If it's so_ featured_ then why can't they afford to give you a place to stay?"

He was right, as much as it pained her to admit. This was the first time the opera Carmen was being staged for the mice of London. It was a decent enough hit with the humans, but Relda suspected the lack of money was because they'd spent it all on getting a famous opera diva to play the title role. Georgette Leonowens was her name. As beautiful as she was talented, Georgette was perfect for the role, but she was also a giant pain in the butt to work with. Everyone in their business had heard the horror stories. Hopefully she wouldn't have an altercation with her. Relda wasn't the most confrontational person in the room, But staying quiet in the face of stupidity was not her forte.

"Pardon." The well-dressed singer grumbled and pushed passed a chirping group of older ladies. Travel was so tiring. She'd stay at this hotel for a few days, maybe before finding something a bit more permanent . It was a pretty enough place, she supposed. The walls were covered in a light green wallpaper that was tastefully matched with cream colored decor. A very modern look compared to most hotels in this city. The price was also acceptable; not for longer than a few weeks of course, but if worse came to worse-

_"_Ah Miss_-Oof!"_

_"Oh!_"

Lost in thought, and maybe walking just a tad too quickly, the brunette mouse walked right into a poor fellow standing by the hotel restaurant. Her heels clipped the side of his shoes and Relda lost her balance. She squealed and grabbed for the shorter mouse's coat.

"Whoa there, dear!"

Thankfully the gentleman had good reflexes. His hands shot out and snatched her up by the left elbow when she lurched forward. Relda dropped her bags and gripped his shoulders in return, steadying herself against a proof of gravity.

"I'm so sorry!" The ruby colored hat on her head had fallen down over her face as the heels of her boots got caught up in her skirts. Goodness, as if this couldn't be any more embarrassing.

"Ah, No problem at all!"

Whoever it was, their voice was kind and mature. The light rasp in his throat read chain smoker, but he didn't smell like one.

Relda lifted the brim of her hat to peer up at the gentleman's face. His kind expression was looking down at her, still holding her up by the elbow even though she'd already rested on her knees. He had light brown fur, a blonde mustache, and concerned eyes. The cap on his head was a light shade of grey and matched his well fitting jacket. He must make good money doing something, not wealthy, but not struggling that was for sure.

"How embarrassing- ugh, Thank you." She twittered. The mouse helped her stand and let go without lingering. A true gentleman. Ha! How often did she run into those? He didn't look as old as he sounded. He was a little passed middle-aged, clean and orderly looking. A man like that was worth talking to for a while. The first kind soul she'd met in this new place surely deserved lunch.

"Sir," Relda smiled sincerely. Her hands rushed to straighten the wrinkled fabric of her dark red skirts. "My name is Miss Florence Relda. I want to apologize again, But I think I'll pay for your lunch instead. Are you in a hurry?"

Her new friend chuckled.

"Oh no, Miss Relda. You don't have to do that, but I _was_ just about to have some lunch myself with a friend. Would you care to sit with us?" A Stranger offering another stranger a seat at their table? Goodness, he certainly was kind. She had to accept, the poor dear had nearly been flattened by her and her luggage.

"I'd be delighted."Stranger or no stranger, Relda was hungry enough to not care.

The hotel restaurant was detailed and decorated by expensive green drapes and gold ornaments. Her new friend didn't care to wait for his companion to show up. In fact, he insisted they sit immediately. "We'll get a table, that way you can rest your legs after all that travel."

There was nothing on this earth like a kind, old, positive soul that listened and reacted with sincerity. His name was Dr. David Q. Dawson, said so proudly it made her smile. He'd just returned from visiting an old army friend in Paris. They'd lived together with three other mice while in Afghanistan. Hmm, that explained the rasp in his throat. She'd never met a soldier who didn't smoke endlessly. It wasn't an easy job after all.

"Paris is beautiful, but very busy. Have you ever been, Miss Relda?"

"Mmm. Many times, yes. They have a wonderful opera house there." And a very scandalous married Parisian Gentleman of high society that she may have spent a few nights with two years ago, but the doctor didn't need to know that. unnecessary details.

"Ah! Then you know how intoxicating it all can be. The whole country is so beautiful. I almost wanted to stay, but..." A sad look passed over his face and he looked down at the pristine white tablecloth. "Well, home is home and my home is here. I could never leave the life I've created at Baker Street, no matter how beautiful Paris is."

He smiled then, looking infinitely more bright.

"Well said, Dr. Dawson."

"Oh, David please. My friends in Paris always called me that. I want to live in the fantasy for just a bit longer."

"Good man!" A much older voice called from across the loud dining room. David grinned.

"There he is! Malcolm Langford. Talkative, but friendly I promise you."

Relda turned her head to see the mouse David was talking about. There by the doors was a plump grey gentleman in a bowler hat. A waiter was taking his coat, only to be shooed away as they reached for the hat.

"No no, i never take off this hat. It's lucky, you know!" The waiter shrugged and let him by, giving the mouse's back an odd look as the fellow made his way over to their table. "David Dawson, it has been months!"

David stood up to greet him, shaking his hand firmly. "Far too long!"

"Yes, and who is this lovely lady?" The grey mouse raised his fuzzy eyebrows in Relda's direction. Relda supposed that was her to cue to stand as well.

"Florence Relda, sir."

"Florence? That was a dear mother's name." He grinned. "She's passed on now, but ah! She was a wild one when she was alive. I always thought her name never quite fit her personality, though it is very pretty."

"How about some lunch!" David interrupted. The grey mouse didn't seem to catch his hint, but the distraction was nevertheless successful.

"Yes! I'm starved. I hope his lovely lady sitting beside you is ready for a long afternoon, my old friend. I have many stories to tell you."

They went on to talk about this and that. They revisited the subject of Paris, and chatted about the weather, and the show Relda was in. Finally, Relda felt that she knew them well enough to mention the contract she had signed.

"You're looking for a place to stay?" David's eyes grew large at that. "My dear, I'm starting to think meeting you today was no accident."

The girl pursed her lips. "What do you mean?"

"My landlady wrote to me while I was in Paris. Her daughter is married, officially moving out of her room and Mrs. Judson is looking fill it. Perhaps the room is still empty!" He wiped his mouth on his napkin and laughed, looking positively delighted. "Baker Street isn't far from your rehearsals. Why I can ask her tonight and you would be moved in by tomorrow afternoon."

"Tomorrow afternoon?" Oh she could faint! What luck! "That would be wonderful!"

"What?" Langford snorted, cutting through both her and David's excitement. "Come now, old friend. A young respectable lady living with that madman you call a flatmate?"

David scowled. It was the first time she'd seen even a touch of anger on his kindhearted face. "What rubbish is that? You couldn't be talking about-"

"Yes, I most certainly am." Langford took a large bite of his food and leaned back in his chair. "I've heard a great deal of gossip while you've been away, Dawson. It was another conversation I'd planned on having with you today."

"Spare me."

"All from a highly reliable source, i assure you. That mouse you live with is a terror. He's lost his grip, my friend. I'm very close with a few officers who have worked with him lately. He's been acting more peculiar than usual. Some of the things they've mentioned... I dare not say in front of the lady."

Relda shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She wanted to say something to help her kind friend out, but what could she say about a soul she'd never even met? For all she knows, everything Langford is saying could be true. Across the table, David seemed to be keeping his cool. He was sipping his tea and pretending like he didn't want to beat his chubbier friend senseless.

"Believe me, Langford, I've heard every bit of gossip this city has had to say about him, and I promise that the great majority of it is absolute rubbish." David stabbed his fork into a chunk of cake, but made no move to eat it. "I know him better than even he knows himself. I'll admit he is eccentric, but to insinuate that he is some sort of unhinged fairytale villain is preposterous."

"Step with care, is all I say." Langford said this to Relda specifically, who hadn't touched her plate since the conversation had started. An awkward silence fell over the table then, Relda thought she might as well be the one to break it.

"New York is so bleak in the winter. It's a blessing that I'm able to travel this time of year."

"Oh! You will love London in the winter, Miss Relda." Both mice nearly said in tandem. The relief the change in subject brought was nearly tangible.

It all went back to niceties after that. While they talked of all the best sights in London, the waiter cleared their plates. Relda hadn't finished her dish, but she was too invested in their talk to notice it was being picked up. By the time they were ready to leave, it was almost evening.

The doctor helped Relda into her coat and hesitantly said "Of course you know what's best for you, Miss Relda. Baker Street was simply an option-"

"No please!" She turned around and gripped his hands. "Yes! I mean, I accept! A place to stay that isn't crawling with maids and porters. That would be perfect!" And David was a decent man. What more could she ask for?

"Tell her I am a single lady looking to stay for four months, but I'm willing to pay the same amount as her other tenants."

"Oh-em...Wonderful!" He chuckled. "I'll send for you as soon as I've confirmed the room is yours."

Perfect! Her first day in a new country and she'd already made two friends and had a place to stay. So far, London had been a success. Hopefully it stayed that way.


End file.
